


the cure

by summoner_yuna_of_besaid



Series: thick skin, elastic heart [4]
Category: Final Fantasy IX, Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VIII, Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-27
Updated: 2015-11-27
Packaged: 2018-05-03 14:29:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5294717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/summoner_yuna_of_besaid/pseuds/summoner_yuna_of_besaid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cloud's been trapped in hell for a long time.  But it looks like he might finally see the light again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the cure

**Author's Note:**

> This story may feel slighty incomplete and be lacking information that would really make things clearer. That's because it's a partial fic set in-between events from my other stories. This is set before and after Cloud is freed from his curse (which will happen in set fires to our insides). Mostly it's so I could write Leon's reaction to said event, which won't be portrayed in that story. Enjoy.

THUD THUD THUD. 

“Strife!  You gotta cut that shit out!”

The blond’s eyes fly open and he realizes he’s screaming.  The sound dies in his throat, dry and hoarse, and he collapses back onto the bed.  Covered in sweat and shaking, the man attempts to sit up, curling into his side as he does.  The dream isn’t even in his mind anymore, he just remembers pain.  Pain and agony and a malicious grin in the darkness.

“S – Sorry,” He mutters, though it’s unlikely the hotel manager heard him.  The man’s probably gone by now.  Slowly, Cloud forces himself to his feet, stumbles into his boots and throws his cloak over his back.  His few belongings he tosses into his bag, and grabs Fenrir from the wall.  Then, he’s gone.

Traverse Town is a pretty busy place, if you’re in the right part of town.  The safest and most traveled area is along the Waterway, where restaurants and shops line the canal.  People from all over the universe have put roots down here, trying to preserve what little is left of their homes and ways of life.  Here, in this crowded place with people strange and unique, Cloud blends right in.

Still, he tucks his wing low, below his cloak, as he walks.  Best not to draw attention.  He’s not in the mood for pointed questions or stares or anything else.  Sore to the bone and exhausted, he trudges along the waterway with his eye on the shopfronts. 

Eventually, he finds it, and comes to a halt.  Sharp green eyes settle on the small store tucked away into a dark corner, dimly lit, a crooked sign in curved letters reading, _The Black Mage_. 

The door chimes as he enters.  It’s a small place, overcrowded and yet neatly maintained.  Lines of bookshelves cut the space into pieces, along with towering shelves with all kinds of … things and creatures and what used to be creatures lining them.  Cloud doesn’t know how much of this is really for magic and how much is just to fuck with the people who walk in the door.

Either way, he ignores it, and walks to the back.  There’s a sheer lilac curtain, which Cloud simply steps past.  The next room is a small bedroom, with a lounge in the center, decorated with plush pillows and throws.  It smells overly of perfume and to Cloud’s sensitive nose, reeks.  Frowning, he shakes his head, and speaks. 

“I need you to look at my wing.”

The man lounging with his back to Cloud simply turns to the next page of his magazine.  “Most people knock.”

“You’re the one who told me, stop by anytime.”

A dramatic sigh is the man’s answer; finally, he turns, revealing a delicate heart shaped face framed by long flowing lavender hair.  “Yes, yes, I suppose I did,” The owner frowns, a well-manicured hand cupping his chin.  “My, what have you done to yourself this time?”

Cloud fidgets, self-conscious.  He knows what he looks like.  Skin taking on a greyish pallor, fingers growing into claws, teeth sharpening enough to cut into his lip.  “Can you fix it?”

The man frowns, tapping a finger to his chin.  Then, he interlaces his hands, cracks his knuckles as he stretches his arms.  “I’ll do my best.”

Cloud feels the tension he hadn’t known he’d been holding begin to seep away.  “Thanks, Kuja.”

“Don’t thank me yet.”  He rebukes.  “I said I’d try, but I promise nothing.  Now, sit.”  He does so.  He sits patiently as the mage named Kuja examines him, muttering to himself, running about for different supplies, his usual strange nonsense.  Cloud has always been baffled by mages but this one in particular is one strange fellow. 

* * *

An hour later finds him leaving Kuja’s store with great improvement, albeit temporary.  The mage was sure to stress that fact – that his fixes were stopgap measures at most.

“I can’t keep you in one piece forever,” He insisted with a weary sigh and wave of his hand in a dramatic gesture.   “A mirror can only crack so much before it shatters.”

“I get it,” He’d grumbled in reply.  “Thanks, for the flowery metaphor by the way.”

“Anytime,” Kuja’d said with a wink.

So here he was, feeling more like himself, if like a washrag that had been twisted and squeezed dry.  Cloud sits overlooking the canal, watching ships slip by in the evening light, dark clouds dimming the moon’s rays.  It’s beautiful.  Traverse Town is no Gaia, but it’s a nice place; and in another life, Cloud might not have minded calling this place home.

Especially if…

He shakes the thought aside.  His – dalliance with Leon is nice, but… it can’t lead anywhere.  No matter what he hopes, or wishes, or suspects, he… can’t convince himself it will work out well.  Nothing in his life has for a long time.

His arm burns.  Even with Kuja’s interference, it always burns.  Over time, the pain will build back up again.  It will spread.  The tone of his skin will darken unnaturally, his wing grow, teeth elongate, eyes take on a red tinge.  He’ll lose himself – lose control.  If he doesn’t return soon…

With a somber chuckle, the man lets his head fall, hopeless, humorless.  “You’d love this, wouldn’t you,” He mumbles to no one.  “A puppet, like you always said.”

It’s inevitable.  There’s simply no time left to dawdle.  

He has to go back.

* * *

_He goes back.  The people he loves follow him.  They weren’t supposed to, but then… when do they ever do as they should?_

_Dilly dally, shilly shally.  It all works out in the end._

* * *

Leon is used to the feeling of being left out of things.

It’s just inevitable after all.  Their dynamic demands it.  The little group he has made with these otherworlders is overwhelmingly filled with people from the same worlds.  Sora, Riku, and Kairi have known one another their whole lives, grew up together.  Cloud and his companions came from the same planet and fought tooth and nail defending it.

And Leon… well, everyone Leon loves is thousands of stars away.

So, there are times when he’s left out.  When Cid will make a comment that prompts Yuffie and Cloud to laugh for reasons that fly right over Leon’s head.  When Cloud will mention a name that makes his friends stiffen, and Aerith to rub his back consolingly.  When they talk about things like “Meteor” and “Materia” and “Remnants” and “Shinra”.  He doesn’t know these things.  They aren’t his.  So of course he’s on the outside.

Most days it doesn’t bother him.  Today is not one of those days.

“What the fuck happened?”  He says as calmly and evenly as he can.  Yuffie winces at the sheer volume of his tone.

“I’m sorry, Leon,” Aerith, eyes as loving and understanding as always, soften upon looking at him.  He hates it.  He wants to be mad at her and she’s making it very hard.  “It was all so fast.  We couldn’t stop and slow down for fear of what would happen.”

“You didn’t see what baldy was doing to Spike!”  Cid gruffly returns, cursing inbetween.  “Fuckin’ sick.  We had to do something, we couldn’t just sit around on our thumbs talkin’ about shit.”

“I know!”  Leon spits.  Anger fuels him, but his mind rebels at the show of emotion.  Taking a deep breath, he sighs.  “I know.  I just – why didn’t anyone try to contact me?  Anyone at all?”

“We should have.”  Aerith admits.  “To be fair… we didn’t realize –“

“No one knew you two were fuckin’.”  Cid about chokes on his cigarette when Yuffie kicks him for the comment. 

“We had no idea how – close the two of you had become.”  The eldest woman puts more tactfully.  Sharp knowing eyes meet his and she smiles.  “You have to admit the both of you are very closed off about these things.”

“Damn understatement – ow, stop kicking me woman!”

Leon can’t help a wince.  She’s right.  They hadn’t told anyone, and so when Cloud was in trouble, when he was in need, no one had thought to call him.  No one had thought he’d care.  Pain chokes his heart at the realization that this is his fault.  He’d been the one not to say anything, not to let it be known.  If he’d been more open… if he’d…

“Hey,” A soft hand touches his, gently.  “This isn’t on you, you know.”

He tries to believe her.  It’s almost impossible to.

“Can I see him?”

“Of course.”  Aerith smiles, and leads the way.

* * *

There are no words for how sore Cloud Strife currently is.  His bruises have bruises and those bruises have more bruises.  He’s got blisters in places he didn’t know they could happen, and every bone in his body is practically vibrating with agony.  It doesn’t matter, though.  None of that really matters.

He’s _free_.

For the first time in ten years, he’s free.  Every few minutes the man looks down to his arm in disbelief, but sure enough, the tattoo is gone.  So is the golden glove, a mockery of an image stolen from an old friend, meant to torment him – meant to seal his will to the God’s.  To Hades.  Hades, who had no power over him anymore.

Cloud stares at it, and starts to chuckle.  The chuckle evolves, gaining power, becoming a laugh and then a bellyaching guffaw, laughing so hard it hurts and all of him is aching, tears spilling from his eyes.  He only quiets down when his watery gaze notices the brown and black blur at the door.

“Should I be worried?”  Leon asks.  Cloud can hear the lilt in his voice, the humor.  He’s practically laughing too.

It’s so good to see the man.  The blond wipes his eyes clean as he settles, taking in a clearer look of his lover.  The man looks exhausted.  Bags under his eyes, which are reddened, shoulders stiff and fists clenched hard at his sides.  Immediately Cloud straightens up, ignoring the sharp stab of pain at the motion.  “Leon, you – Gods, I’m sorry.”  He realizes immediately that the man must have had no idea, must not have known what was happening.

Leon shakes his head, but he won’t quite meet Cloud’s eyes.  “I’m just… glad you’re alright.”  He hesitates in the doorway to Cloud’s room, which is a random bedroom in the Traverse Town Motel.  His body sways, as if he wants to move forward, but is resisting, hands shaking at his sides.  Cloud’s worried gaze drifts upward and he notices the tears glistening on Leon’s cheeks.

“Hey,” Concerned, Cloud leaps to his feet, ignoring the agony that puts him in.

“What are you doing?”  Immediately Leon looks up, uncaring that it reveals the sorrow on his face.  His hands rise to gently press Cloud back.  “You need to rest –“  He’s ignored, Cloud’s arms slipping beneath his and around the man’s waist.  He pulls in him, gently, so that he can rest his head beneath the man’s chin.  Leon stiffens – but a moment later sinks into the embrace almost desperately, arms wrapping tight around him, head falling onto golden spikes.

“Y – you died.”  Leon mutters, voice quiet but even.  “I wasn’t even there.”

“It’s not your fault.”  Cloud tells him just as quietly.  “If it hadn’t have happened… I’d still be trapped like I was before.”

“I should have seen it.”  The other insists.  “I should have known something was wrong.”

“I should have told you.”  Cloud leans a little bit away, to look in Leon’s eyes.  “Hey.  I’m the one who kept secrets.  I didn't tell you Hades' curse was destroying me. Didn't want you to worry. Obviously, it came back to bite me in the ass.”  Then, he smiles.  “But, hey, it worked out.  I’m free.”

“I…”  Leon freezes, gaze drifting away.  “I’m sorry.” 

Cloud leans in again, pulling the man in tight.  “Nothing to be sorry for.”

“I’ll be there next time.  When you need me, I will be there.”

“And I’ll tell you, the next time.  No secrets.”  Cloud makes this promise to himself, gaze narrowing.  Long ago, he’d learned not to keep things from his loved ones.  Time away trapped in hell, he’d apparently forgotten the lesson _.  I’ll just have to learn it again._

“It’s not all bad news.”  Cloud continues.  “They told you the story, didn’t they?”

Leon, leaning away, shakes his head.  “I’m still not sure what really happened.”

Smiling, Cloud takes his lover’s hand.  He doesn’t have to say anything.  The man follows him to the bed, where they gently arrange themselves, and settle in for the night, and for a long story.

* * *

It’s another two weeks before Cloud finds himself back in _The Black Mage_.

He takes his time, this time.  Wanders the shelves a bit, examines the strange merchandise.  Some of it interests him, most of it is probably more Merlin’s fare.  He picks up some kind of glowing stone for Yuffie, most assuredly not Materia but perhaps similar.  There’s a sword that catches his eye, but it’s part of a set made for duel wielding.  Not really his thing.  So he meanders to the back of the store, parting the curtain calmly, to see its owner lounging as usually, reading an old magic tome.

“Let me guess,” Kuja sighs tiredly.  “You’re in need of more of my help.”

Cloud smiles.  “No, actually,” At his reply, the mage stiffens in surprise, turns, and sets wide eyes on the currently claw-less, wing-less, curse-less Cloud Strife.  The man holds up the shiny bauble.  “I was wondering if I could buy this.”

Kuja’s shocked gaze darts from the man, to the item in his hand, and back.  It’s not long before he breaks into a beaming smile, to which Cloud cannot help but beam back.


End file.
